Impossible to Cope
by MBP
Summary: A look at how the original cast members cope with the greatest loss any of them has ever faced. (I couldn't bring myself to write about the new kids - don't know them well enough to even try.)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own Glee. I do ache for this great loss. I haven't written any FF in a long time and never Glee before, but I'm so shocked and sad about this news that I had to write for Cory. This is my tribute. I'd initially intended it as a one-shot, but I apparently have more to process than I'd realized.

* * *

Rachel has been staring into space for 45 minutes. She knows the flight attendant has stopped multiple times to ask her if she wants a beverage or a snack, but she doesn't turn her head. She can't. If she stops staring at that tiny stain on the ceiling above her head, then maybe this whole nightmare will come true. Because that's all it can really be. A nightmare. This - this can't be real. Every time she even begins to allow herself to think of the possibility, she can't breathe. And she needs to breathe. So she keeps staring at the stain on the wall. And she tries to ignore Kurt and Santana.

Kurt doesn't want Rachel to notice how hard of a time he's having keeping it together. He doesn't want anyone to notice, actually, but he especially doesn't want to put this on Rachel. Because as much as he knows this is his grief just as much as it is hers, he also knows that's not true either. He feels his eyes welling up in a way that has become horribly familiar, but he forces himself to blink them back. This isn't the time.

Santana can't bring herself to look at either of her friends. She closes her eyes and slouches down in her seat, hoping that she can hang on until she's home in the safety of her mother's arms before she really lets herself think of why she wants - no - needs - to be there so badly. And until then, she can't let herself think of any of those horrible names she'd always called him. Or how he was one of the only people who seemed to understand how hard things were for her sometimes. No, she can't let herself think about any of that at all. She swallows hard and doesn't open her eyes.\

* * *

Tina, Blaine, and Artie sit together in her room, but none of them speaks. She doesn't know what either of them is thinking, but since she doesn't know what she, herself, is thinking either, she's ok with that. And she doesn't want to ask because she's afraid that if she talks, she'll start to cry, and then they might, too, and that's just not something she's prepared to deal with. Of course, she's seen all of her friends cry. But not for something like this. Not for something that they can't fix. Ever.

Artie hates to be seen as weak. Hates it more than anything, and he knows he has a lot to make up for image-wise, so he always tries to seem unruffled, to seem like nothing's bothering him. But right now, for the first time in his life, he's terrified that he won't be able to do that. And he knows from the glances he occasionally catches from Tina that she knows that, too. He tries to avoid eye contact. He should be able to do this. He's gotten through a lot of bad moments, and his friends need him now. He doesn't want to have to need them. But he's afraid. Because on some level that he's not acknowledging right now - he knows he does.

Blaine doesn't know what to say. What he does know is that he's afraid to see Kurt, and this time it's not for the usual reasons. This - well, there's nothing to compare this to because nothing has ever been this awful. And he knows Tina needs him now, and even Artie, too, probably, but he doesn't know how to be there for them when all he can think of is how selfish he is. Because more than anything else, what he's feeling right now is this enormous fear that Kurt won't let him help. And right now, that's what he needs - to feel like he can help Kurt. He's ok. He doesn't need help. He just needs to help Kurt. He won't let himself think about any more than that.

* * *

Brittany and Sam always talk. They are never together for any prolonged period of time without an incessant chatter. But today, neither of them has been able to say a word. Brittany's eyes are swollen and puffy, and she chews on her pony tail as she thinks about all of the ways things are changing. But this was never supposed to be. And whenever she feels like she should say something to Sam, she looks up, but his face just makes the words stick in her throat. She's never seen his face look like this, and she's afraid. So she chews on her hair, and she doesn't say a word.

Sam knows. He knows that Brittany wants to talk to him, and he knows why she isn't. But he can't seem to get the scowl off his face. He knows it's forbidding, and he knows that's why no one has approached him since he heard the news and dropped the phone on the ground, almost stepping on it in the process. But he has to be like this. If he stops scowling, he'll start - no. He won't even let himself think about that. He needs to stay strong for Brittany. He keeps scowling.

* * *

Mercedes is unutterably grateful to have wound up on the same connecting flight home as Mike. Right now, when she's feeling so lost and confused, all she wants is a familiar face. Even if Mike can't seem to bring himself to say a word, all that matters is that someone who understands is next to her. And all it takes is one look at Mike's face - and that all-too-brief hug - to know he does. The conversations will come later, she is sure. For now, his company is enough.

Mike doesn't know how to define his mixed feelings as he sits beside Mercedes on this short flight home. Is he glad she's there? Of course - on one level. Because she does understand, he knows, it's good to have her there. But at the same time - if she understands - then that means this is real. And he can't let that happen. He doesn't know how to let this be real and still be himself. He's never had to face anything like this before, and he knows - he _knows _- that he's not capable of it. He just isn't. And he isn't capable of talking about it either. He's glad, at least. that Mercedes seems to understand that, too.

* * *

How doesn't matter.

This is the line that keeps running through his head as he stares at the cell phone in his hand. How doesn't matter. It can't change anything.

Puck shakes his head and his lips almost twist into a smile. Because it can't be true. It can't. Sure, they've had their arguments - might have even stopped talking for a while back with the whole getting-Quinn-pregnant thing. But they were always supposed to be there for each other. So what IS this?

Puck shakes his head again. How doesn't matter. Because this can't be true. And when he goes to the choir room, he's going to make sure to explain that to the rest of them.

* * *

Sometimes, being a teacher is too hard. This, Will thinks, is one of those times. He stares into the bathroom mirror and wonders what he's going to say. When he sees them. When they see him. When they need him to have answers that no one has - that no one ever will have. He puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe deeply. Things like this - they never get any easier. They only get harder. And as he prepares to walk to the choir room, he knows this is the hardest it's ever been. And it's going to get harder. And he still doesn't know what to say.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: They're all coming back together now. I'd meant to write this in one chapter but didn't realize how long it would take to get them all together in one place and do each of their reactions justice, so this will be a multi-chaptered scene. Thanks for the support. Please review (and don't worry - I didn't forget Quinn. She'll be back, too.)

* * *

The middle of the summer isn't a normal time to be in school. This is the thought running through Sam's head as he, Brittany, and Artie approach the front doors of McKinley, but then he sighs. He doesn't know why he can't stay focused, but he thinks maybe it's easier this way. He doesn't want to focus on why they're at school in the middle of summer. If he does, he won't be able to handle this. And he needs to be able to handle this. The others rely on him; he can't let them down. Taking a deep breath, he reaches for Brittany's hand, and she looks up from her own misery in surprise, but she takes it. This, she hasn't expected. She knows Sam needs something that he's not willing to ask for or maybe even take if it's offered, but maybe - hopefully - this is a first step. She glances over to see if Artie has noticed, and she sees that he's staring straight ahead, unblinking. She moves her hair back to her mouth, her old nervous habit. She doesn't know what else to do as they make their way down the long quiet hallway, but she wonders what they'll find when they go into the chorus room. She's afraid of that, too.

As it turns out, Mr. Shue is the only one there when they walk, and he turns from his contemplation of the piano keys to see who are the first to arrive. The first thing he notices, with a pit in his stomach, is how tightly Sam is holding onto Brittany's hand and how pale Artie is. But for a moment, none of them speaks. They just look at one another, and Will knows he's going to have to be the first to step forward, to break this silence, so he does, and he reaches for Brittany because she's the only one who's made eye contact, but as she releases Sam's hand and stumbles toward her teacher, her eyes fill almost against her will, and she collapses into him, the tears running down her face and soaking into his shoulder. He holds her tightly, not saying anything, afraid that if he tries to, he will also break. That's the last thing any of them needs right now.

Brittany takes a long time to pull back, and when she finally does, she rubs a hand over her eyes and says, her voice shaking, "how - how are we supposed to do this, Mr. Shue?"

He shakes his head, and his voice sounds unnaturally deep when he says, "Britt, I really don't know. But we're going to try to do this together, ok?" And he looks not at her, now, but at the boys, who have not moved from where they stopped when Brittany stepped away. Sam is staring at the floor, and Will remembers the day of the shooting, when he and Shannon had to wrestle with him to keep him from trying to find Brittany, but now, he seems lifeless, and this is almost scarier.

"Sam?" he asks, and Sam looks up almost involuntarily. And then he wishes he hasn't because Mr. Shuester is looking at him with more sympathy than he can possibly handle, and he looks back down quickly but not before both Brittany and Will have seen the tears welling up. He just hopes they know enough to stay away right now and leave him alone. He just needs everyone to leave him be. But he hadn't counted on the voice in the doorway behind him.

"I'm back." It's shaky, and it's a voice he hasn't heard in a long time, but everything he's ever missed about Mercedes suddenly comes rushing back, and he turns to the sound, hating how her eyes widen with surprise when she sees his face. But then the understanding quickly replaces it, and she's doing what everyone else has been too afraid to and walking over and just putting her arms around him. For a moment, he stiffens, and then it's too late to fight it anymore, and the sobs that have been bunching in his chest for two days now come roaring to the surface, and he starts to shake against her even as he knows she's shaking, too. They hold onto one another, and Sam can't bring himself care that he's supposed to be helping everyone else. Right now, he doesn't even know how to help himself. It's a long time before he's calm enough to even back away.

Artie has shut down against all of this. Just as he was before they walked into the school, he's staring straight ahead. He hears Brittany's sobs as Mr. Shue holds her. He hears Sam's as Mercedes seems to know what he needs more than he's even willing to admit. But none of it penetrates his numbness. He doesn't want it to wear off, but it doesn't seem right now like he's in much danger of that happening. He wheels himself away from the others, and he's staring off into space when he's suddenly aware that Mercedes has managed to detach herself from Sam and come to sit with him. He tries for a smile - if he doesn't look over at where Brittany and Sam are now clinging to each other, Mr. Shue sadly looking on, he might even be able to manage it. And he does. But then Mercedes takes his hand. It's the first time anyone has dared to touch him since he heard the news, and he feels a chill course through him.

"I'm - I'm ok," he tries to say, and she nods, but he knows she doesn't believe him. Which is fine. Because they both know he's lying, and he's just hoping she'll let him. For a moment, it seems like she will because she doesn't say anything. But then she says, "I'll never forget the way you dedicated that Beatles song to Finn when we were all saying goodbye before graduation last year. I know - I know that meant the world to him."

No. She did not just say his name. Artie had thought her touch was bad, but this - this does something to him that he isn't prepared for, and now, he's not staring into space. Now he's blinking quickly, and he's grateful for the glasses that might just mask how watery his vision suddenly is. He thinks she might be waiting for a response, but she has to know that she's not going to get one. Her pressure on his hand increases, and she sighs shakily. "I"m glad you said it," she goes on. "He really did sacrifice so much for this club - for all of us. I just - I just can't believe that this really _is _goodbye."

And Artie has to take his hand away now - more like wrench it away - because he just can't do this anymore. He leans forward and puts his head in his hands, and the tears slip down behind his glasses. Dimly, he's aware of Mercedes' hand on his back, and he's grateful for it. But he can't look at her or anyone else right now. He doesn't know when he ever will be able to again.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm still struggling with getting them all in the room - and also how to deal with who's left because as hard as all of these were - I think the hardest is still to come. Next chapter will finally get everyone into that room and talking to each other, though. I just need to pace this out for my own sanity, too. Please continue to review. I really appreciate it.

* * *

Rachel is walking down the hall slowly, but Kurt isn't sure she's even aware of where she is. Her eyes aren't focused, and when he'd tried to take her hand, she hadn't even noticed. So they're walking side by side, but they might as well be in different worlds because that's how it feels right now. And Kurt can't remember ever being more worried about anyone.

He doesn't mind, though. If he's worried about Rachel, then he's not thinking about why they're here, and he prefers that. Because if he lets himself really think about this, he knows he will dissolve into a blubbering mess. That hasn't happened yet, and he would prefer for it not to happen at all. He glances at Rachel again, and he wonders when it'll hit her. He wonders if it already has and if this is how she's going to be from now on. He can't imagine that's true, but so many things he could never imagine happening have happened in the last 48 hours, so he's not ruling anything out anymore. He's still walking, wondering suddenly if Blaine might be there already, waiting, when he realizes he's walking alone. Rachel is standing still, and she's - wait. She's trembling. She is shaking from head to foot, and she is also shaking her head back and forth. Kurt realizes she's also saying something, and he walks quickly back to her, and she is mumbling "no no no no" over and over again and showing no signs of stopping.

Slowly, Kurt guides her over to the nearest staircase, and he eases her down to a sitting position, and then she's looking at him, and he can't believe he ever thought she'd stay that numb forever. Because she is definitely not numb now. Her eyes are filled with more pain than he's ever thought possible, and she says "I - I can't. Kurt. I can't go in there. Not there. Not without - without - " and here she chokes off, but she doesn't need to finish. He knows what she can't bring herself to say, and he can't say it either. All he can do is wrap his arms around his best friend as the tears she's been trying to blink back overflow and cascade down her face. She isn't sobbing, but her tears soak into Kurt's shoulder, and she lets out a shaky sigh. She isn't moving. She doesn't care who's in that room. All she needs to know is that the only person she wants to see isn't.

Kurt swallows hard as he smooths her hair. He gets it. He doesn't blame Rachel for not wanting to go in there. It's just - he does. He wants to be with everyone else. He wants to be in that room where he can feel just a little bit closer to... to him. But he can't leave her here, and he doesn't want to force her to do this, so he sighs and closes his eyes and hopes maybe someone will come along soon who can help.

But he doesn't expect to hear footsteps at that moment. Even without looking up, though, he knows who it is. There might be multiple footsteps, but there is no way that some of them don't belong to Blaine. Slowly, he lifts his head, and he is completely unsurprised to see Blaine and Tina. Tina's eyes are puffy, and she's looking at Rachel, and her whole face is twisting in sympathy. She seems to being moving almost involuntarily, and then she's sitting on Rachel's other side, and she's reached out and is touching her shoulder.

Rachel stiffens. She doesn't know who this is - who it could possibly be. She realizes that she's forgotten where she, herself, is right now, and she forces herself to let go of Kurt and look around. When she sees Tina, though - that's when the sobs start for real. So do Tina's, and she and Rachel wrap their arms around each other, both of them shaking uncontrollably.

And then - it's Kurt, and it's Blaine, and they are forced to look at each other. They'd been watching the girls, but the girls have each other now, and they don't need either of them. Kurt also knows he needs to get away from Rachel and Tina as quickly as possible because the sounds of their grief are just too hard. He can't listen to any more of this and have a chance of keeping his composure. So he gets up and walks away, toward the chorus room. He doesn't look to see if Blaine is following, but after a few steps, he hears a sound behind him - an entirely unfamiliar one, and his steps slow again. He turns almost against his will, and this time, he sees a sight he doesn't really expect.

It's Blaine's turn to have stopped walking. He is staring at the floor now, and his shoulders are quivering, and it's all Kurt can do not to lose it all at once. But he knows for sure that he absolutely can't do that now. Because if Blaine is in this bad shape, then he really does need to be the strong one. He doesn't know if Blaine will let him, but he has to try to find out. All it takes is one half step towards him, though, for Blaine to fling his arms around him, and then they are holding each other again. And it's clear pretty immediately that neither of them will let go any time soon.

They are caught in these twin postures of grief when the door at the end of the hall opens again. Mike is walking in now, and the first sight that greets him is Kurt and Blaine locked in an embrace that makes him ache, suddenly, for comfort of his own. But no - he doesn't need comfort, he reminds himself as he forces his feet to move. He's ok. He can make it past them to the chorus room. They won't want him to intrude now anyway. But he's only managed a few steps when the staircase comes into view, and what he sees there knocks the wind out of him more effectively than any football tackle ever had. It's - it's Tina. And Rachel. And their tears make his eyes start watering. He wonders if he has it in him to just walk past all of them - to get to the chorus room as quickly as possible - but Tina must have heard his footsteps because all of a sudden her head comes up, and then she's looking at him, and he can't bring himself to look away. She whispers something to Rachel, and then she's standing.

He stares at her. It's been so long since they've talked, and they'd never talked about anything like _this_. But then - there'd never been anything _like _this to talk about. He remembers how sad he'd been when Sue's sister had died, but that - that was nothing compared to this, and he realizes all over again just how impossible this is all going to be. He swallows hard. They still haven't said a word, but then Tina is reaching for him, and he almost smiles. He can hug her. That will be ok. But when she puts her arms around him, he feels like he's home again, and suddenly he realizes - home will never be the same again. Because they're about to walk into that room and not see Finn. Not ever again. And then he hears a whimper and wonders who's making that sound before he realizes - it's coming from him. He buries his face in Tina's hair as the tears finally start to fall.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ok, so I did get all of those present (plus one) in the room, and the conversation has begun - but I had to cut it off with something of a cliffhanger. I wanted to get this done and up at least (and it's the longest one yet), but I need a little more time to work out how the rest of this is going to go (and to decide if it'll even go beyond the next chapter.) Thanks again for any reviews.

* * *

Santana walks into the building and sees immediately what needs to be done. She sighs. She's not surprised that she's going to have to be the one to do it, only hopes that she can somehow manage it as quickly and as relatively painlessly as possible.

Taking a deep breath, she approaches Mike and Tina first. She says firmly, "let's go in there. Mr. Shue's waiting, and I think some of the others are already there, too."

They slowly release their grip on one another, and Tina looks at Santana, her lip quivering even as Mike stares at the floor, and Santana tries not to think that she never expected to see Mike looking like this, his eyes red and swollen, and she glances away again even as she says "Come on."

Mutely, without even thinking about why, the two turn to walk to the chorus room, and Santana reaches a hand out to Rachel, who's staring at her now with a mixture of fear and resignation. It's clear that she doesn't want to go, but it's also clear to both of them that Santana isn't about to take no for an answer, and Rachel thinks fleetingly that it might almost be easier to face that room than it would be to face Santana. She stands and allows Santana to take her hand.

As the four move closer to Blaine and Kurt, they release one another, and Kurt sees through his all-too watery eyes that Rachel is up and moving, and he tries to telegraph an emphatic thank you to Santana, and when she looks at him and gives a brief, almost infinitesimal nod, he knows she's somehow heard him. He glances at Blaine, who is trying very hard to take deep breaths and calm down, and he reaches for his hand. He's still not sure what to think of this, but he also knows that it doesn't matter right now. Some things are more important.

And then they are walking through the doors of the chorus room, Santana supporting Rachel in a way she'd never imagined she would have to, and Will, who's been sitting separately from Artie, Mercedes, Sam and Brittany in solemn quiet contemplation, looks up. He'd been thinking he would give the kids some time to themselves, to be together, to allow himself to be summoned only when needed, but he sees Rachel, and the lump is back in his throat, and he hardly realizes what he's doing as he stands and walks toward the new arrivals.

Santana hugs him first. That, he hadn't expected. And when she pulls back and her eyes are slightly more red than before, he realizes he hadn't expected that either, and he lets his hand rest on her hair for a moment before nodding towards Brittany who had also stood at their entrance. They stumble toward one another, and then they are wrapped in each other's arms. Sam's jaw clenches, and he closes his eyes. He'd been calmer for a few minutes, but he knows if he looks too long at Brittany and Santana, he'll lose it again. He's not even sure why he's finding it suddenly so impossible to hold it together, but he is. That much, at least, he's coming to accept.

The next to approach Will is Tina, and she hugs him briefly, letting go before she can allow the tears to take her, and she hardly looks at him again as she moves toward the others, noting how Artie is studiously not looking at her, even as he swipes quickly at his eyes. She takes a seat beside him anyway. She's not sure why, but she needs to be near him right now. Even if they can't think of anything to say to each other.

Mike doesn't want to need anyone. He wishes that he hadn't seen the others in the hallway, that he hadn't let Tina hug him and undo him that way, but there's no use thinking about that now. So he tries to smile and pretend he doesn't look as wrecked as he knows he does, that he's more than capable of helping the others and not needing their help in return. He steps toward his former teacher, intending on a brief hug, but as soon as Will enfolds him, he suddenly realizes he can't pretend anymore as the tears choke him. He knows he's starting to shake again, and he clings in a way he wish he could prevent. He just wants this to stop, but he has no idea when it will. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to let go even though it's the last thing he wants to do right now. And Will's sad smile shows that he knows it, too, but he lets go, and Mike blindly finds his way to a seat, paying no attention to whoever is sitting beside him. Nothing could matter less to him right now.

Blaine and Kurt had been holding hands, but when Will turns to them, Blaine drops the connection. He doesn't know why he's the one to let go when all he'd wanted was for Kurt to be willing to hang on, but he needs Will. He needs someone older to tell him it's going to be ok even if he knows it isn't, and while he knows he's usually the last to initiate the hugs that have become common practice in this room, he does now, and when Will's arms encircle him, he wants to relax, to feel protected, but what he feels instead is his teacher's shaky breathing. And that's when he realizes - maybe for the first time - that nothing will ever be ok again. He swallows hard and pulls himself away as gently as he can manage, but he can't look at Will as he moves toward Tina and Artie. He can't look at anyone. He especially can't look at Kurt because he knows he's hugging Will now, and if he sees what he anticipates to be Kurt's colossal meltdown, he knows he'll be having one of his own, and the last thing he needs for that is an audience. It'll be bad enough when it happens, and he's starting to accept that it will, but he's determined it'll be when he's alone.

But Kurt doesn't have a meltdown. He hugs Will, but he's all too aware of who is still standing behind him, and he's too worried about her, so he whispers, "Go - go to Rachel" because he knows now Mr. Shue needs that as much as she does even though he couldn't have predicted that beforehand.

Neither could Will. But as he and Rachel finally make eye contact, he feels his heart contract in a way he hasn't let happen yet, and he knows he needs her just as much as he thinks she might need him. And then she's flinging herself into his arms in a way that is horribly reminiscent of those celebratory moments after regionals and sectionals, but this isn't celebratory. This is - this is terrible, and she's shaking with sobs that echo through the room as he tries - unsuccessfully - to hold his back. He knows who he really needs at a time like this - the same person he needed by his side at his wedding - and the horribleness of all of this is that he's the one person he can't have now. And that knowledge just makes him cry harder as much as he wishes he could just be strong for Rachel.

But it helps. It helps Rachel, and she calms down more quickly than she'd thought possible because she realizes it's now up to her to help their - her - friend. She hugs Will tightly, and she rubs his back, and it's a long time before he's calm enough for her to let go. When she does, they look at one another, and while she's seen him well up so many times in the past, she realizes now - that was all it was. Full-fledged crying - no, he'd never have let any of them see this if he could have helped it. And the fact that he can't help it now is what's really slamming the reality of all of this home for all of them.

Rachel and Will walk over to the rows of chairs where the others are sitting in various states of silent misery, and he pulls over a swivel chair and surveys the group while Rachel slumps into a chair next to Mercedes, who reaches over and strokes her hair softly, eliciting a wan smile. Will clears his throat weakly, and then they're all looking at him. It's a long moment before he finally sighs and says hoarsely, "I wish - I wish I knew what to say to make any of this easier, but I don't think there is anything. I guess we just - we say whatever we need to right now. Does anyone want to start?"

There is a long silence, and then Brittany sniffles and says, "Mr. Shue - I just don't get it. This doesn't - it doesn't make sense. It's _Finn_. How - how could he - how could he just be gone?"

But before Will can even think of an answer, a voice from behind him says, "he's not."

And Will feels a chill course through him as he slowly turns and sees Puck slouching nonchalantly in the doorway.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The idea for Puck's denial definitely came from Mark Salling's gut-wrenching tweet when he first heard the news - he apparently deleted it almost immediately, but all reports say he just tweeted "no." That, to me, is one of the saddest reactions I've been able to think of in all its implications, hence the inspiration for this chapter. (I also left the cause of death deliberately vague - I'm not sure how the show will handle this obviously, nor do I have any good ideas and am glad I won't have to be the one to write it for real.) If you think this should continue with one more chapter in the chorus room (and potentially a funeral), please let me know in a review. I'm still not sure. Thanks, as always, for the support.

* * *

Slowly, Will forms words.

"What - what do you mean, Noah?" he asks. He keeps his voice gentle. For the first time today, he's not sure how to handle this. The others were hard, of course, but the tears are what he'd expected. This, though - this is something else entirely.

And that's confirmed for him when Puck shrugs and says, "it doesn't make sense. It seems like it can't be real. Well, that's because it isn't. Think about it, guys. This is _Finn_. He wouldn't leave like this. So it's not true."

But even though his tone is light, Will notices that he's yet to really hold eye contact with any of them. He thinks he understands why as he glances over the red eyed sniffling group behind him. He contemplates standing and going to him, but the fact that Puck hasn't yet moved from the doorway tells him he's also a flight risk and that if he wants him here at all, he's going to have to leave him be.

So he sits for a moment, staring at his knees. He knows the other kids are dumbstruck with no idea what to say, and he's hoping none of them snaps. That's the last thing any of them needs right now, and especially not Puck. The problem is - Will doesn't know what Puck needs.

He looks back up at him, and Puck is still standing there, his arms folded, as he says, "I was thinking about this yesterday. They never said how it happened, right? And that's got to be because it didn't. Otherwise, we'd know how. So it's going to be ok. Because this has just got to be a big joke, and we're all suckers. And any minute now, Finn's going to walk in here, and we're all going to feel pretty stupid. Well, you are. I figured it all out. He didn't get me."

He almost looks proud of himself, and Will begins to feel distinctly nauseated. But he sees a movement behind Puck then, a shimmer of blond hair, and he feels a flicker that he knows is a combination of hope and dread. Because a face materializes then, and it's Quinn. And he knows, suddenly, that she chose the exact right moment to show up.

She's heard everything Puck's said - Will can see that in her face, and she also knows she has to be very careful here. He sees that, too, and he relaxes, knowing that she is far too well equipped for this role. He wishes he could help (or even look away), but he can't, and he watches as she reaches out and touches Puck's shoulder. He jumps, but then he turns in anticipation, and Will's heart breaks. He really _was _hoping it was Finn - he really did, it seems, manage to convince himself that it could be. When he sees Quinn, he stares at her open mouthed, and her eyes fill as she looks back at him sadly.

He shakes his head. "N- no," he stutters. "No crying. He's ok. He'll be here. This - this isn't real. It can't be."

But Quinn, who's always been able to read him best - well, next to Finn - reaches for him then, and the minute she wraps her arms around him, he has to close his eyes and swallow hard. It's because he can feel her shivering, he tells himself. That's all. It's not because this is real. Because this can't be real. And he keeps repeating that in his head like a mantra until he realizes that he needs to get away, and then he's flung Quinn's arms from him and taken off down the hall.

She turns to follow him but pulls up short when she realizes he's only made it the distance of a few lockers. She walks slowly, afraid she might spook him, but she needn't have worried. She knows as soon as she sees his face that he couldn't have taken another step if he'd tried, and then he looks at her, and for all that they've been through together, she knows she's never seen him look _this _broken.

"It - it can't be true," he says weakly. But then the question she doesn't expect: "can it?"

And Quinn knows she's going to have to be the one to really change everything for him - because whoever he'd heard it from the first time didn't have the same effect she always does, and she knows he'll believe her. And that's why she hesitates before she finally nods. Because she knows she's really about to change his life forever, and she's afraid of what might happen when she does.

It's not quite what she fears. He stares at her and then nods slightly. His jaw is clenched, and she worries that if she looks too closely into his eyes, they will start watering, so she doesn't. She simply reaches for his hand and then turns and leads him back to the chorus room. Mr. Shue is standing in the doorway, and Quinn releases Puck's hand because she needs comfort now, too; she needs the hug that her teacher is offering, and she stops worrying about Puck for a minute as she too wishes, not for the first time, that this really _were_ one terrible nightmare. She's remembering all of those things she'd done to Finn that she can never fix now. She knows he forgave her a long time ago, but the lump in her throat is choking her. She might not be the worst person in the world, but Finn had to be one of the best if he forgave her for all of it. And now she'll never be able to thank him again or tell him how lucky she is to know someone like him. How lucky they all are. (She knows on a very distant level that she's still thinking about him in the present tense. She also knows that's not an adjustment she's willing to make now - if ever.)

Puck is not feeling so lucky at the moment. His vision is turning darker as he stares at the floor, thinking about the fact that this is real - _it's real_, he repeats in his head, but he's still not so sure. Or at least he doesn't want to be. When Quinn stumbles away from Mr. Shue, though, he realizes that he's looking at him now with so much concern in his eyes that Puck is forced to look away. If Mr. Shue is this worried about him, then this is even more confirmation that Quinn wasn't lying. And even as he tries to stay where he is, he finds that his feet are moving toward Mr. Shue because he doesn't know where else to go. They embrace, and Puck clutches the back of Will's shirt in his fist as he mutters, "I - I didn't want it to be real. I didn't know..." and he trails off because now his throat is burning, and he's afraid that if he says another word, he'll embarrass himself in front of the whole glee club.

But Mr. Shue isn't letting him off so easy, and he whispers, "none of us wanted this to be real, Noah. It shouldn't be. But," and now his voice is shaking, and Puck wishes he could let go, could run from this, but he's afraid to let go of Mr. Shue now, afraid that if he moves at all, all control will be lost. And that's all he has left now, this hard fought control. He sighs, but his breath catches in his throat, and then Mr. Shue is saying what he'd hoped he'd given up trying to - "but he's gone now, and all we have is each other," and he can't do this anymore, he _can't_, and as much as he tries to screw his eyes shut and block out the world, the only thing he sees is Finn's face and then the shattering reality that he won't - not ever again.

Reality isn't the only thing that shatters. Because now, without even knowing how it starts, Puck is crying in Mr. Shuester's arms. He gives up. It just hurts too much.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Sorry it took so long for this update. I've been doing a lot of reading over writing this past week, but inspiration just struck again. I'm probably still not totally done with this yet. Now I'm thinking ahead to wake/funeral and even how the next generation of kids might be coping..._

* * *

The group sits, frozen in their seats. There have been many tears in here, many fights, many reconciliations, but somehow, Puck had always seemed to avoid the most dramatic of it all. None of them has ever seen him break, and hearing his choked sobs now is what suddenly makes this all the more real for the rest of them. They can't look at him, but they all find their eyes watering, even those who'd already managed to somewhat calm down. And when Puck finally pulls away from Will, he realizes to his relief that not only is no one staring at him, but the rest of them are all in various states of dissolving, too. For some reason, it allows him to join them, much as he would run from this at any other time.

He stumbles blearily to a seat, and once in it, he puts his face in his hands. Just because he's willing to sit here doesn't mean he has to talk to anyone. The fact is - there's nothing to say. He should've known that this was not what Mr. Shue would think, though, because he's been sitting there for all of 30 seconds, maybe, when he hears the familiar sound of the chair's wheels and then his former teacher's now raspy voice saying, "Guys, I just - I just wanted us all to have a chance to be together and lean on each other. Is there - is there anything anyone wants to say?"

For a long time, there is silence except for the occasional sniffle, and then Mercedes's voice wavers as she says, "I - I didn't know what to think when I got that phone call. It still doesn't seem real. It's - it's _Finn_. Things like this happen in the _news_. They don't happen to _us._"

There are some murmurs of agreement from around the room, and then Tina clears her throat as she finally finds herself able to speak. "I know what you mean, Mercedes. I just stared at the phone for, like, ten minutes. It didn't seem like it could have happened. It - it still doesn't. I just sit here, and I feel like I'm waiting for ..." she trails off, but she involuntarily glances toward the door, and the rest of the group clearly understands because Brittany sniffles, "I keep thinking he's just going to walk in any minute." She lets out a quavering breath and leans into Santana, who strokes her hair. Santana doesn't say anything. She won't. She's afraid if she does, she'll start crying, and she can't let herself start. She's not sure why this is happening either, but she's even less sure about why she's feeling so wrecked by it. So she comforts Brittany but maintains her silence.

Rachel is also sitting in silence, but the tears are streaming down her face unchecked. She's not wiping them away, and she's not making a sound, but they're showing no signs of stopping, and that is what is slowly destroying Kurt inch by inch. This room has seen more than its share of Rachel Berry meltdowns and tantrums, but it's never seen Rachel's silent devastation. And that's what keeps reminding Kurt over and over again that Finn really must be gone. Because something has to be really real to hurt Rachel this much and not cause her to pull even more attention to herself. But he can't ignore the tears, and he slowly releases Blaine's hand and shifts his chair closer to Rachel.

"Rache," he asks softly, and he puts his arm around her. She leans her head against his shoulder for a moment, trying to pretend this is like old times, that they're sitting here for a New Directions rehearsal and that Finn will be here at any moment to practice their duet - but he isn't. And she is suddenly understanding this for the very first time, and she convulses with an enormous sob.

"I'm sorry," she wails, and she tries to bolt, tries to get away from this room where it all began, but then there are arms around her, holding her tightly, and she realizes through a haze of tears that it's Puck. Slowly, she stops fighting and turns to look at him. He's still holding her, but he won't look at her. He's staring over her head, biting his lip, blinking quickly and swallowing hard. And while the last thing she wants is to make this harder for anyone - that's why she was trying to _leave_, after all - he's the one who stopped her, and it's the tears in his eyes that release the sobs she's been trying to contain for too long. She breaks hard.

Puck is still holding her and holding on with all his might to his own control because he knows he's put himself in that awful position again where everyone else is watching him, but instinct took over when he saw Rachel try to run, and he caught her before he really expected to. And now they're here, once again in front of all of their friends, and it's not like with Mr. Shue where he could hide in his shoulder. There is no hiding with someone as small as Rachel in his arms. So he clenches his jaw and hangs onto her with all his might, even as he knows that his tears are starting to drip on her hair.

Kurt doesn't want to fall apart. He'd wanted to help Rachel, but he's afraid now that he just made things harder. Plus - plus he just plain misses his brother. His face crumples against his will, and he wants to hide, wants to run like Rachel tried to, but he knows he'd make it just as far. So he doesn't even try. He looks at Mr. Shue, who is trying very hard not to cry, himself, and he says, "this is - this is too hard, Mr. Shue. I'm just not sure we're going to be able to do this." He's proud of how calm he thinks his voice just sounded, but Blaine heard the tremors, and he's turning to Kurt now. He wants to pull him into his arms and let himself fall into Kurt's, but he's still not sure where they stand. But all it takes for Kurt is the wide eyed hurt in Blaine's eyes for him to lose the tiny bit of control he has left, and they fall into each other.

Artie is crying silently. He has been for a long time now, and he doesn't think anyone's noticed. He _has _noticed that Mike's been doing the same thing, that he's been surreptitiously swiping at his eyes when he thinks no one's looking, but he's certainly not going to be the one to tell anyone. And at one point, Mike makes eye contact with him, and there is a moment of pure understanding and pain that threatens to pull them both under completely, so they quickly look away. And that's when Sam says, "I'm - I'm scared of going to the wake, Mr. Shue. And the funeral. I don't - I don't know how to do anything like that."

Mr. Shuester sighs. "No one knows how to do anything like this, Sam. All you _do _have to do is just show up. It's not going to be easy for anybody, and it's ok to cry or not to cry when you're there. But I do think it's important that we all go together, so we can help each other. The younger kids will be there, too, I'm sure, even though I haven't had the chance to talk to any of them yet, but I know how much they all looked up to Finn," and he chokes here on the past tense for just a moment. Quinn hears it, and her eyes fill, and she looks down quickly, unwilling to let anyone see, not knowing Santana has, not knowing it's caused Santana's eyes to fill, too. But Mr. Shue clears his throat and somehow continues. "They're going to need our help, too. Once we know all the arrangements, we can work out our plans. Ok?"

He hadn't been expecting a response, but a few of them nod, and he knows that this is probably the only thing that _is _ok. Because nothing else is. And one quick glance around the room lets him know that it won't be for a very long time.


End file.
